


Survival Instinct

by cyanideinsomnia



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Attempted Seduction, Bad Decisions, Drabble, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gen, Mild Sexual Content, fellating your leader in gun mode to stay your execution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24178744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanideinsomnia/pseuds/cyanideinsomnia
Summary: Hell, even he felt dirty tasting his gun barrel, feeling its warmth against his glossa.… he could work with dirty.
Kudos: 10





	Survival Instinct

**Author's Note:**

> some dumb thing from 2015 loosely based on me half-paying attention to a scene in Spring Breakers

The floor rattled under two hundred tons of triplechanger forced to his knees, and the command room sang in the disjointed yet sharp melody of hand across face. 

"This is all YOUR fault, Astrotrain!" Starscream snarled. 

Though the blow was hard enough to leave a mark, the Seeker showed no sign of pain. His victim was caught between hiding his own pain and cringing away from it, unsure of what was expected of him. His wings and head were low, that much was certain - appearing as small as he could despite being the largest thing in the room.

He could see pedes moving through the corner of an optic, dragging frames. Half their numbers in for repairs. Soundwave carrying Lord Megatron, trapped in gun mode.

Only unconscious, thankfully.

The Second gripped his face, forcing him to look up. "If it weren't for your _bumbling_ , we would have had the energon AND far less casualties! What do you have to say for yourself, you incompetent piece of space trash?!"

"I-I was at the rendezvous point on time, I swear--"

A ringing chorus in the earlier symphony, right in the same spot. 

"LIAR! We retreated, and _you weren't there_! We found you kliks away, nose deep in highgrade!"

"It was the right coordinates! They were logged in! I waited-- I was told--"

" _Silence!_ "

His mouth snapped shut like a steel trap, helm pointed to the floor again. Someone had lied to him. Someone had set him up, sent him too far off. Someone was trying to get rid of him. He couldn't remember who gave him the orders. His spark was racing.

This shouldn't be a death sentence. This should have been brig time, maybe a beating -- maybe he'd be forcibly grounded for a while. Stuck in stasis.

"Dearest Megatron _insists_ on keeping you around," Starscream continued, tone soft and no less threatening. "A bit of charity, I think. We could all easily take a share of energon transport, find a better, more _obedient_ shuttle if need be. If nothing else, we have a space bridge."

He heard an alarmed noise from one of the troops, and suddenly his helm was jerked up again, with the barrel of a gun-- no, _Megatron--_ pressed into his half-open mouth. 

"You, dear, dear Astrotrain, are in fact _expendable_."

His frame locked up. He could have fought back. He could have pulled away. Soundwave - likely the one who made the noise - was obviously distressed, yet oddly also frozen.

They all were. 

It wasn't for his execution, he knew that, he wasn't so important as that. It was the _comatose leader_ being used for said execution. 

Hell, even _he_ felt dirty tasting his gun barrel, feeling its warmth against his glossa.

... he could work with dirty.

Against his better judgment, the triplechanger arched forward, running his glossa up the details of his murder weapon as sensually as he could, closing his lips around the base, not quite hitting the trigger guard or the loosening blue finger inside it.

"What-- what are you doing?" Starscream looked as though he were about to take a step back, trigger finger twitching.

Rather than verbally answer, Astrotrain only began to suck, optics focused on his captor, pulling his helm back and arching forward again, treating his Lord rather like a certain something that would be at helm height at this moment, as low as he had sunk in prostration.

It was subtle, but he could see the Seeker's chestplates begin to rise and fall with every motion of his helm along the barrel, quickening as he did, grip a little looser, hips a little wider. He would have missed it had he not been this close.

Ventilations ragged on both ends, plating trembling, a sharp, predatory look slowly replacing the steeled gaze of the executioner in those crafty optics. He pushed forward again, this time allowing his lips to graze the trigger guard, and he felt more than saw Starscream's struts practically melt.

The shuttle drew his helm back, letting the tip dance on his glossa, somewhere between inviting and questioning. Waiting to see if his appeal had been successful.

A long moment passed, and he could see the other mech's hand was lightly shaking. In truth, he looked two seconds from collapsing - or going in for the kill.

Finally, Starscream cleared a bit of static from his throat and glanced away.

"On second thought, perhaps I could _graciously_ allow you to live a bit longer. The recruitment process is rather slow, after all." His optics flickered back to his former victim. "To the brig with you."

'I shall be along shortly to _check_ on you', his optics continued. 'if you know what I mean.'

... well, okay, Astrotrain probably made that last part up. But that was a seductive look if ever he'd seen one.

Soundwave snatched Megatron - oh Primus _he had just fellated Megatron_ he is so dead - away from his SIC and fixed him with a glare that meant it would be a bit longer before any checking of any sort.

As the other Decepticons began to haul him away, he could have sworn he heard Megatron's voice, half-drugged in pleasure. 

He may have woken him up with his magic mouth.

Maybe he wasn't quite so dead after all.


End file.
